You Bastards!
by emebalia
Summary: The Winchesters investigate the repeated death of Kenny. This story turned somehow into a real crossover with South Park. Rated for language. *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, I'm just playing with Kripke's toys.

**Spoilers:** No spoilers for anything

**Author's Note:** This is a oneshot. I like it as a oneshot. But … I don't know.

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><p><strong>You Bastards!<strong>

Sam nursed his beer while he kept an eye on Dean. The bar was nearly empty – no surprise for a Tuesday – beside Dean's victim at the pool table and his two friends there were only two other patrons. Sam heard laughter from the pool table, even Dean's victim had a good time. By buying Dean one drink after another he was still hoping to win his money back. Behind his beer bottle Sam smiled. No chance, buddy.

Encouraged by one of his friends – the girl in that group had only eyes for Dean – the young man made a shot. From his position he couldn't see the balls on the table but the man's satisfied grin told Sam it was a good one. Dean on the other hand didn't seem to be concerned. Whispering something in the girl's ear which made her giggle Dean made his next move. Somehow Sam got the feeling he had the motel room for himself this night. And when Dean would return in the morning than with a goofy grin on his face and money in his pocket.

Watching them for another minute Sam didn't feel bad for Dean looting the young man. The guy looked like he could effort it and the Winchesters needed the money. Hunting wasn't a payed job after all. They were lucky each time they made it out of town without being caught by the police. Hunters tend to leave a mess behind. So, yes. A bit of easy money was always welcome.

Besides the two young man and the girl looked like rich college folks so Sam had not to watch his brother's back. Sometimes Dean's victims wanted their money back. With their fists if necessary. But this was easy like taking candy from a baby. The guy even enjoyed it.

With a smile Sam turned his attention on the laptop in front of him. He was already through the local newspaper, it was a confirmed habit to him to grab newspapers wherever they stopped, but this one was clear of any suspicious articles. So he went online and searched there for their next hunt.

Dean was earning money and Sam tried to find the next hunt. Not that Sam couldn't play pool for money or Dean couldn't do research, they could when they had to, but they were both comfortable with this kind of division of work.

One headline caught his eye: Child killed by cow. Chewing his bottom lip Sam clicked on the article. An accident in a small mountain town. Maybe some kids had played where they should not have played, Sam thought cursor hovering over the back button. Why not? It wasn't that they had a deadline of some sort or were in a hurry. So he could just browse the internet for his own curiosity, right? Glancing at his brother who had settled with the other three at the bar Sam snored. Even after winning all the other guy's money they were best friends by now. The girl was virtually sitting in his brothers lap her hand in places Sam didn't want to think about. They all were chatting like they knew each other for years. So yeah, Dean was definitely having fun.

Sam ordered another beer and made himself comfortable at the laptop again. For others – especially Dean – it would have sounded weird but for Sam it was a perfect way to spend the evening. The sound of the nearly empty bar in the background, a beer in hand and some mindless surfing on the internet. You could not imagine what pearls of wisdom Sam had picked up this way.

So he got back to the main-page of the newspaper and searched for other accidents involving cows.

The last dead cow he had come across had led them to a nest of vampires – which by the way had not been as blood-thirsty as the hunter chasing them – so this wasn't exactly just surfing on the internet, right?

Sam sighed. Why the hell did he feel the need to defend his actions? Dean would just do what ever he wanted to. Looking up Sam could actually see that in action.

Sam didn't find any other accidents but that town seemed obsessed with cows. There were cow-days and the school mascot was a cow too. Not a bull or any other stupid but strong sounding animal. A cow for Christ's sake.

Shaking his head about the insanity of the so called normal life Sam read a few of those articles till he came across that one which brought him there in the first place. It didn't tell much about the circumstances so Sam searched the kid's name.

And then it got weird. OK, this might be worth looking into, he thought after he read two more articles.

"Having fun, Sammy?" Dean was bending over the table a new beer for Sam in hand.

"Hmm." He read the last sentence and then looked up to Dean.

"You look like you found something." Over his shoulder he reassured the girl that he would be back in a minute.

"Maybe."

"Are we in a hurry?" Still a grin on his face but seriousness laying beneath it. If Sam's answer was _yes_ he would be on the road the next minute without looking back to the girl he intended to spend the night with.

Sam shook his head. "Nah. You can have fun with your … friends." He said with a knowing smile.

"At least I know how to have fun."

"Don't make too much noise when you stumble in at four in the morning."

"I don't stumble. I'm like a cat." He tried to sound offended. Then Sam could literally see the light bulb over his head. "I am batman."

"Sure you are." How could a grown man look so childish? "But don't get totally wasted, we should head out in the morning. There are kids involved."

That washed the grin off his brother's face. His eyes darkened.

"Tell me." Dean sat down in front of him.

"It's weird." Sam started hating himself for even mentioning it. He may just ruined his brother's night. "I found an article about a kid got killed by a cow. Stomped to death, actually. Then another one about a kid got shot during a robbery in a grocery store. Got in the crossfire somehow. And another one was run over by a train."

"That is tragic." Dean said a frown on his face. "But I don't see a connection to our line of work."

"Well, the kids had all the same name." Sam explained.

"And? Maybe it's a huge family. Still tragic, but you know ..." Then his trademark smirk came in place. "Hell, maybe it's one of those half forgotten towns where the people have the same last name even before they get married." He winked as if Sam needed an extra hint to get the joke.

"It's not only the last name. It's the first name, too. Every kid went by the name Kenny McCormick." Sam took a sip of his beer.

"OK, that is weird." Dean thought the information over. "See a pattern?"

"Nope. There were month between the events. Beside the names it seems like normal accidents to me." With his bottle he pointed to the bar where the girl tried to drag Dean back to her with her eyes. "Somebody is waiting for you. Tomorrow is early enough."

Dean didn't move for a moment. "Sure?"

"Sure."

His face lit up again and he got on his feet.

"Don't wait for me." He wiggled his eyebrows and went back to the bar. "Missed me?" Sam could hear his voice but not the answer from the girl. The way she whispered it into Dean's ear it was none of his business anyway.

Sam would finish his beer and then get back to the motel. Maybe checking the route for tomorrow. Yeah, that was a plan. Somebody should be awake and sober enough to drive in the morning. And it would not be Dean, Sam knew that much.

"So, South Park it is."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean stumbled into the room in the middle of the night. Not like a cat, not like fricking batman. He stumbled like a slightly drunk Dean.

Sam raised his head just enough to make sure it was Dean and not somebody or something else and then let himself drift back to sleep. At least Dean did his best to be quiet while he made his way through the room.

When Sam woke up in the morning Dean was still fast asleep. Letting his brother sleep for another while Sam got dressed and sneaked out of the room to get some coffee. After such a short night Dean would need a good dose of caffeine and breakfast consisting mostly of sugar and grease. Without that his brother would be a pain in the ass. A more painful pain in the ass, Sam corrected his thought. With a day in the car ahead Sam was willing to do anything necessary to increase Dean's mood.

"Maybe he'll sleep a few hours in the car." But Sam doubted it. Not with his luck.

When he came back to the motel Dean's bed was empty and Sam heard the shower running.

"You better brought some coffee." Came his brothers voice through the bathroom door. "I love me some coffee."

"An extra large vanilla frappuccino with extra caramel cream." Sam grinned and set the table.

"You wouldn't dare." Only with a towel around his waist Dean stepped out of the bathroom eying the things on the table closely. A sigh of relief on his lips he noticed the normal cups of coffee. The smell alone should have given him a clue.

"Get dressed before it gets cold." Sam dug into his fruit salad and pancakes. From the corner of his eye he could still see Dean who had tossed the towel on the bed. "Dude, I'm trying to eat. Could you hold your ass in another direction?"

"Would you rather see the front?" Dean pulled his boxers on and was now searching for his jeans.

"Hell, no!" Concentrating on his food Sam fought the mental images in his head. At least Dean didn't seem to suffer from hangover. Thank god for small mercies.

Finally dressed Dean sat down and took a sip of his coffee.

"Ahh." He sighed his eyes closed. "That's what gets you going in the morning and not that girly stuff you call coffee."

"Whatever." Sam unfolded the newspaper he had picked up on the way. "Get finished, it's a long ride ahead. And before you say anything, I'll drive. At least the first turn."

Of course Dean had to argue about that but he caved in way to easy. A sure sign he wasn't at one-hundred percent after the last night. Sam avoided to think about what had his brother exhausted more the alcohol or the girl.

Despite the dose of caffeine Dean was asleep before they left town. Smiling at his brother Sam turned the radio to a low level.

They took it easy and stopped early for the night. They would reach South Park sometime in the afternoon the next day which was fast enough for Sam's liking. No need to rush.

With his pocket full of money Dean was in a generous mood and the motel he picked was one of the better ones. Sam sighed at the thought of a hot shower with actual water pressure and a bed with soft covers and no suspicious strains. After they settled in they went to a nearby diner for dinner.

"So about this case." Dean said after the waitress took their orders. "Find anything else?"

"Not about the kid … or kids or whatever." Sam shook his head. "But for such a small town there are quite a lot celebrities showing up there. I don't know. This town gives me just a weird feeling."

Dean looked at him. Hard. And Sam felt the need to reassure him with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Okay." Dean dropped it, his attention on the waitress who brought their food.

"If you need anything else ..." She leaned way more into Dean's personal space than needed to serve the plates but his brother didn't seem to mind. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I'll let you know." Dean answered with a smile. She actually blushed before she hasted away.

"She is cute." Dean followed her with his eyes till she disappeared in the kitchen.

"Dude, you were out last night." Sam said in disbelieve.

"What? Am I on a curfew or something?" Dean asked around a mouthful of burger. He had ketchup on his chin.

"You are disgusting." Not sure himself if he meant his brother's table manners or sex life. Concentrating on his food Sam tried to ignore Dean.

"Relax, I'm not looking for a date." He chuckled. "But maybe you should. You are a bit cranky."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "That's your solution for everything, right? Sex?" He paused for a moment. "And food?"

"Don't forget the hunt. Nothing better than to kill an evil son of a bitch." He said last part in a low voice so nobody could overhear it. The last thing they needed was an upright civilian who had nothing better to do than to cause trouble.

"Right."

After dinner they went back to their room and Sam took the shower he had lusted for since they had arrived in that motel. It was even better than he had expected.

"Dude, you have to try the shower." A sigh on his lips he laid down on the bed. The covers were as soft as they looked like. He had his eyes closed but he felt Dean watching him. Without opening his eyes he asked: "What?"

"I hope you cleaned the shower. I seriously don't want to find anything."

"Find what?" Sam opened his eyes but the bed was just to comfortable to get up.

"Dude, you were in the bathroom forever. Then you came out a silly grin on your face and making happy noises. And now you are to exhausted to even lift your head. You tell me what I could find."

It took Sam a second to put together what his brother meant. "No, I didn't ..." He jump-started from the bed heat burning in his cheeks. "I …"

Dean cracked up laughing. "You should see your face." He burst out. "Your face."

"Ha ha, very funny." Sam watched his brother who had to sit down on his bed before he would just collapsed on the floor, tears of laughter in his eyes.

"It is." He could barely speak. "It is funny."

"OK, it's a little funny." Sam had to admit, a smile on his face.

After a dreamless night – the bed must had been made in heaven – they were on the road again in the morning. If nothing unexpected happened they should arrive in South Park in the early afternoon.

"So this is South Park." Dean said as they passed the city limits. "Not very impressive."

"Which town we have ever been to was impressive?" Sam snored but straightened in his seat to take a better look. A main street with a few shops and bars, dirty snow on the sidewalks.

"OK, let's find ourselves a room and then take a look around."

"Sounds like a plan." Sam nodded. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something orange. "Dean! Watch out!"

"Sonofabitch." Dean slammed his foot on the pedal. Tires screamed on the asphalt. Sam braced himself on the dashboard waiting for the impact. For a split second he thought they made it. But then the car hit something solid.

Sam stared at the cracked front windshield. Blood. There was blood on the cracked glass. For an eternity all Sam could hear was the beat of his heart racing in his chest. Then he heard high kids voices cut through the silence.

"Oh my god. They killed Kenny."

"You bastards!"

tbc

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><p>I'm sorry. I really am. I did a one-shot because I never wanted to put a multi-chapter story on hold over November. But now this story got a life of it's own and I have to do exactly that. There will be more, I promise, but you'll have to wait till December. Sorry.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

I'm itching to start my NaNo-Novel so I needed something to distract me till November. This is the result. Hope you enjoy it.

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><p>The next hour went by in a blur. Sam remembered talking to a police officer who seemed slightly retarded. An ambulance came for the kid but it was too late. The kid was dead. Sam felt numb.<p>

He had seen more death, hell caused more death, than a man should in a lifetime but this was different. The kid was not a monster. This was not part of the job. This was a twisted bitter taste of normal.

The kid – Kenny – was dead and Sam felt sorry for him but he was more worried about Dean. His brother hadn't spoken a word since the accident. And it _was_ an accident. It just happened. It was tragic and sad and a kid so young shouldn't be dead but things like that sometimes happened.

Not in Dean's book. Dean would have felt guilty if he had been a bystander who only watched the accident. He would blame himself for not being fast enough to get the kid out of harms way. But this was worse. Dean had been behind the wheel. His car, his fault.

After an eternity Sam was allowed to get his brother and leave. The car was towed to a garage so they had to walk to the next hotel. Dean carried his bag without a word, Sam wasn't sure if he knew what he was doing. He followed Sam like a dog, two steps behind, his head hanging, his expression blank. When Sam told him to stop at the hotel so Sam could get them a room he just stood there till Sam returned. Hadn't moved a muscle and Sam wondered if he would just stand there for hours if he didn't tell him to get inside.

Dean dropped his bag next to the door and got a few steps further into the room. Then he stopped and just stood there. Still silent. Behind him Sam closed the door. He had no idea what to do. If the tables were turned Dean would knew what to do. All his life Dean had been there for him to make things better. Dean would just knew.

How could this get better? Sam had no clue. The kid was dead. That was a fact nether of them could deny.

"What was his name?" Dean's voice was husky and low but it was the sweetest sound Sam had ever heard.

"Kenny." Sam wanted to hold his brother, hold him tight, but Dean wouldn't allowed it. Never had been the touchy and sharing type. So Sam put all his support in that one word.

"How old?"

"Eight." Sam circled his brother to look him in the eye. His expression was still blank but he couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Silent they ran down his cheeks. Sam had never seen his brother so young, so vulnerable. His heart clutched in his chest.

When Sam offered him two pills and a glass of water Dean took them without even lifting his head.

"Don't look at me like that." The words were slurred but Sam knew what his brother wanted to say. Fully dressed Dean was laying on the bed, his face buried in the pillow. The pills were doing their job.

"I'm here. I will be here when you wake up." He wanted to say more. _It's not your fault,_ for example, but Dean wouldn't accept it.

"Sh'd l've." Sam wasn't sure what that meant. If he should leave or the kid should live. Neither of it would happen.

"I'm here." He reassured his brother rubbing circles on his back. To his surprise Dean let him. "You are not alone."

A few minutes later Dean was fast asleep and Sam could finally give into his own shock. With trembling hands he pulled a bottle out of Dean's bag – his brother always kept some of the good stuff for _medical application_ – and took a big gulp directly out of the bottle.

Sam settled down on the floor, back leaning against the side of Dean's bed, the whiskey bottle between his feet. Every time he closed his eyes the seconds of the accident replayed in his mind. He felt the thud of the impact, heard the glass cracking, saw the blood. It had happened so fast Dean never had a chance to stop the car in time. Not a heavy battleship like the Impala.

"Poor Kenny." Sam drank a salute to the kid. Then, the bottle still at his lips, he froze. "Kenny." He repeated. With his eyes closed Sam tried to remember if the officer had told him the kid's last name.

"Kenny McCormick." He was pretty sure. So maybe, just maybe something supernatural caused the crash. It would still be a tough one for Dean but he could probably accept it better than just a random accident. And Dean could kill something for revenge.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Dean's voice came from above and Sam needed a second to connect the question to his current position. Seemed like he had fallen asleep.

His legs were numb and his neck felt stiff from the awkward angle he had held it while he slept.

"What time is it?" Rubbing his legs he tried to get the blood circulation running. Thousands of needles were torturing him and he grit his teeth.

"Nine in the morning." Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey before Sam could accidentally kick it while his body came back to life. He looked at it for a moment and then put it on the nightstand.

"It wasn't a dream, right?" Hope in his voice also he knew better, Sam saw it in his eyes.

"No dream."

Dean nodded and fell back into his pillow.

Sam chew his bottom lip. "I'm not sure it was really an accident." He trusted his leg enough to push him up so he could sit on the edge of Dean's bed.

For a long moment Dean just watched him. "What do you mean?"

"The kid's name was Kenny McCormick just like the others."

"OK."

"I want to check the morgue." Sam said knowing his brother's response before he actually said a word.

"I'm coming with you." Stern voice but with a layer of guilt beneath it. And maybe a little panic too.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Dean was barley holding together. Confronting him with the dead body of that kid? No, sir. Not a good idea.

"I ..." Dean began and then stopped. He clenched his fist in a helpless expression. "I just have to … you know."

"Yeah." Of course he knew.

Neither of them were hungry – the thought of food made Sam feel sick – so they get dressed and went outside. Dean's movements were slow and he seemed lost in his thoughts so he just went to the driver's side of the car. He was halfway in when he looked at Sam who stood still at the door staring at the car.

"Are you coming?"

Sam swallowed and blinked. The car was still there. It shouldn't be there. And as sure as hell it shouldn't look like it had been in a car wash a minute ago.

"The car was towed to a garage." He finally manage to bring the words out.

That let Dean's hunter instincts kick in. He jumped back, grabbing for a gun that wasn't in his waistband.

"Maybe they fixed her and brought her back?" He was now standing between Sam and the car, eying his baby closely.

"They don't know where we stay. I didn't know at that point so I couldn't tell them." And the last thing he had cared at that moment was the damn car but he better kept that to himself.

"So why is the car here?"

"I don't know."

"Stay here, I'll have a look." Dean glared at Sam to make sure he would follow the order for once and then began to investigate the car. Sam was tempted to help but he didn't move. This kept his brother's mind from brooding over the crash.

"No scratches, cracks or dents. No EMF, sulfur or hex bags either." Dean informed him. For a moment they both stood there eying the car which seemed to mock them.

"Only one way to find out." Dean straightened and opened the driver's door again. "You wouldn't hurt me, right baby?"

"Are you sure you want to drive?" They sat in the car, Dean had the key in the ignition but hadn't turned it.

"Sure." It came just a little bit too quick. Sam decided to ignore it. Get back in the settle as soon as possible, he guessed.

The short drive was tense. For one Sam expected Dean to freak out any minute or cause another crash – he didn't cause the first one, he had to remind himself – and second he was prepared for the car doing something weird. Judging by the white knuckled grip his brother had on the wheel his thoughts went in a similar direction. But Dean drove them safe to the hospital were the morgue was.

With their FBI badges they got in and the coroner was all happy to help the agents. But when Sam asked to see the body of Kenny McCormick the man frowned.

"Sorry, our only guests are a eighty-three year old woman and a fourty-some hobo."

"No kids?" Till this point Dean had let Sam do the talking but now he stepped forwards. "Kenny McCormick, eight years old, car accident, died yesterday." He rattled off the facts like they had been in his head for a while. Together with _myfaultmyfaultmyfault..._ Sam bet.

The coroner shook his head. "I'm sorry. He isn't here. Maybe he was brought somewhere else?"

"Where could that be?" Sam interrupted.

Now the coroner looked really confused. "I don't know. He should be here. If he is dead, of course."

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

"What the hell?" Dean asked on their way out of the hospital. Sam could only shrug his shoulders.

"Dude, seriously. What. The. Hell?" Dean repeated.

"I don't know." He wished he knew but he drew a blank. Loosening his tie he opened the door and they stepped into bright sunlight. It shouldn't be such a sunny day. After what happened the other day he had expected rain, maybe a thunderstorm, everything but an apple pie day. Sam blinked into the brightness as they made their way to the Impala. The parking lot was nearly empty.

"If they are screwing with my car ..." Dean suddenly quickened his pace. Sam lost in his thoughts blinked before he noticed the bunch of kids near the Impala.

"We didn't touch it." One of the kid, he had a green hat and mittens the same color, hold up his hands in surrender. All of them stepped back as Dean reached them. Sam couldn't see his brothers face but he didn't had to. Dean was in a bad mood even before some short little hooligans gotten near his car.

"You better not." Dean growled now standing between the kids and his car. Normally Dean had the patience of a saint when it comes to children but not today.

Sam smiled an apology to them and patted Dean on the shoulder to calm him down. He guessed the kids around eight or nine years old, it was hard to tell behind all the thick winter clothing. From one of them, he stood aside eyes never leaving the car, Sam could only see eyes and a hint of a nose under the orange hood. This kids were the same age as that mysterious Kenny Sam realized.

"Hey you guys." Sam changed the subject. "Do you happen to know a kid named Kenny McCormick?"

The three other kids turned to the one in the orange parka who muffled something under his hood.

"You know him?" Sam guessed.

"No." The kid with a red pompon on his hat – seriously, are there still parents that cruel out there Sam wondered – spoke up. "He said he is Kenny."

"You are Kenny?" Dean asked. Sam couldn't quite place the tone in his brothers voice. It was somewhere between horrified and relieved.

The kid nodded and mumbled something which could be yes.

"You are Kenny?" Dean said again now in clear disbelieve. Another nod confirmed by the "He is." from the other kids.

Kenny backed off another step and asked something Sam couldn't understand.

"Could you take off the hood? Please?" He asked with a sigh. "I can't understand you."

"He asks if he is in trouble." Pompon kid offered a translation. All eyes were now on the Winchesters.

"No." It was Dean's turn to hold his hands up. "We are just a little surprised to see you well and healthy. And you know … alive."

Sometimes Sam just wanted to smack his brother. He was talking to little kids here. Of course they stared at Dean as if he had grown a second head. Sam opened his mouth to say something, not sure what, but he was interrupted anyway.

"You remember?" Blurred Pompon kid out.

"Holy crap." The fat kid spoke for the first time. Till now he had been more interested in the car than the conversation.

"I hit him with my car yesterday. Of course I remember." Dean shuddered. There would be nightmares for him that was for sure.

"Why shouldn't we remember?" Sam asked. Okay, this was now official weird. He shot his brother a look.

"Most times nobody remembers." answered the kid with the green hat.

"Most times?" Dean repeated.

"Kenny's death made it into the newspaper at least three times." Sam added. "That's what brought us here in the first place."

Kenny mumbled again and backed off. Great, they had scared the kid to death.

"Wait." Dean made a step in his direction. "We are here to help." But Kenny's eyes went wide, then he turned and ran away. Dean followed him a few steps then stopped. Chasing the kid wouldn't be a good way to gain his trust at least his brother had that much sense. Sam sighed.

It didn't matter anyway. Kenny hadn't even reached the end of the parking lot when an ambulance with flashing lights and howling sirens rushed into the lot. Sam could only stare in horror. The ambulance didn't slow down after it hit Kenny and left him motionless on the ground.

"Oh my god. They killed Kenny!"

"You bastards!"

The same words Sam had heard less then a day before. This time with less enthusiasm.

"Hey guys." The fat kid tried to get the brother's attention. "How much for a ride in this sweet beauty?" He pointed to the car a pleading expression on his face.

"Cartman." Pompon kid hissed but he only shrugged.

"What?"

Sam looked from one kid to the other and then followed his brother who was already at Kenny's side.

Suddenly Dean jumped. "Rats."

When Sam reached his brother Kenny's body was covered with rats. They were dragging him away.

"Don't worry." The kids came near, calm and not freaked at all. They just saw their friend die for crying out loud. Sam didn't know what do think. "That happens all the time. He'll be fine tomorrow."

"What do you mean, he'll be fine tomorrow?" Dean found his voice before Sam.

The kids shrug in unison. "He dies, the rats take him and the next day he's fine." Green hat kid explained.

"And nobody finds this weird?" Sam asked.

"Dude, you ever listen?" The fat one spoke up his eyes already on the car again. "Nobody remembers."

"Except you." Sam pointed out.

"Why do you remember?" His brother added.

"Hell if we know." Green hat answered. "Or why it's always him."

"I bet it's because he is poor." Fat kid offered an explanation. "Poor people always die."

"Shut up, Cartman." Green hat said in a tone that indicated he said this a lot.

"Don't worry, Kyle. You will probably live forever."

Sam didn't know what Cartman wanted to indicate but the other two boys just rolled their eyes. Sam recognized friendly banter when he saw it – with Dean he had it every day, thank you very much – this however felt a bit to intense to be friendly.

"Where does Kenny live?" Dean changed the topic. Eying his brother closely Sam tried to analyze Dean's mental state. He seemed fine but he always did.

"What do you want there?" Green hat – Kyle – asked.

"We want to speak to his parents. Listen, this is not normal, you know that. We are here to find out what this is all about and stop it." Sam said wondering how much of the truth he could reveal without them getting freaked out. They were just little kids after all … used to see their friend die every day. Not much he could add to the freak factor. And they seemed to handle it very well. Memories flashed in front of Sam's eyes and he pushed them back into the deepest of his mind. Not the time or the place to think about that.

"I can show you." Cartman offered his eyes on the Impala again. He even licked his lips.

"Cartman, you are not riding with them in that car." Kyle hissed half turned away from the brothers but Sam could hear him anyway.

"Why not?"

"Dude, they are strangers. Do you even recognize what could happen?" Pompon kid spoke up while he smiled at Sam in a you-seem-to-be-nice-but-I-don't-trust-you-way.

"They offer me candy? Strangers in black cars always have candy."

"Just describe us the way. That would be fine. Thanks." The last thing Sam needed right now was to be accused to be a kidnapper or worse. Even speaking with the kids could look suspicious. On the other hand nobody had shown any interest in dead Kenny.

"But ..." Cartman's attention was on the car and Sam wondered when he would start drooling.

"Another time, kid." Dean reassured him clearly beaming at the admiration of his car. His smile was natural and reached his eyes. After the accident the other day Sam hadn't expected to see that in a long time. It felt good.

Cartman just glared at Dean for a moment.

"Screw you guys, I'm going home." With that Cartman left and the remaining kids took a breath in relieve.

"Don't mind him, he's an asshole." Pompon kid said as soon as Cartman was out of hearing distance.

"Sure." It was a little strange hearing kids their age talking like that but Sam had to admit he felt the same way towards this Cartman kid.

"So, where does Kenny live? Did live. You know ... whatever." Dean asked showing the same confusion Sam felt.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: I had to make a decision for the time-line. So this is now officially settled between "Mystery Spot" and "Changing Channels" for Supernatural. Still no specific time for South Park.

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><p>The interview with Kenny's parents was the weirdest Sam ever did. They were oblivious to their son's deaths and kept insisting that Kenny was fine and playing with his friends. After a shared look with his brother Sam didn't have the heart to tell them the truth. Which they wouldn't believe anyway.<p>

"That was useless." Dean said on their way back to the motel. He dropped Sam off and went to get them some dinner.

While Dean was gone Sam settled in front of the television. He should start with the research but he was lost in memories. Bad memories. He hoped with the distraction of some mindless shows he could hold them at bay but pictures from the past kept popping out of the dark pit in his mind he had shoved them into. Shot, burned, shocked, poisoned, smashed. Memories swirled into a maelstrom of blood and death. Sam took a deep breath and focused on the show running on television.

"This town is now officially weird." Dean said as he entered their room loaded with bags of food. "You'll never guess what I just saw."

Sam turned from the television and frowned at his brother. "No clue but I bet twenty bucks I can top that."

"No way. Your twenty are mine." Dean placed the bags on the table and started to unwrap the burgers. "I just saw a guy walking down the street with a hand puppet. A grown man with a friggin' hand puppet." He shook his head in disbelieve. "Try to top that. A hand puppet."

"Easy." Sam took his salad and pointed towards the television.

"What are you watching?" Dean asked around a mouthful of burger.

"Some local stuff. There is this dude who claims to be Jesus." Sam still tried to get the picture of the hand puppet guy out of his head.

"Jesus?"

"Yeah Jesus." Sam confirmed. "And they didn't put him in a loony bin … no, no … they gave him a show on television."

"You have to be kidding me."

"Watch for yourself."

Together they watched the rest of the show. Without a word Dean pulled out his wallet and handed the money over.

"At least he keeps it straight." He said as Sam switched the TV off. "With that white dress and the halo."

"Yeah." Was all Sam could think of.

"Okay, this town is beyond weird."

They finished their meal in silence. Without the distraction Sam's thoughts traveled down the memory road.

"You know what this reminds me off?" He asked finally. "This Kenny kid and his dying?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. How his brother had not seen the similarity was beyond Sam but on the other hand Dean didn't quite remember. But Sam did. Shot, burned, shocked, poisoned, smashed. He closed his eyes. It didn't help.

"What?" Dean asked when Sam didn't continue.

"Tuesday in Broward County." The slow ones had been the worst. Like the Taco. Yeah, the Taco hadn't been fun.

"Come again?"

"It fits." Sam shuddered as the memories of Dean's deaths washed over him. "Repeated deaths, only a few who remembers. Doesn't that looks familiar to you?"

Dean thought about it a minute and nodded. "But unlike me Kenny remembers. You saw him eying my car?"

Of course Sam had noticed. That Cartman kid were practically drooling over the car but Kenny had been careful as if he was afraid to let the car out of sight. As if it might jump him.

"He was afraid of her." Dean spoke out what Sam was thinking. "Never stood in front of her. And he was probably scared of me too." Dean paused and Sam felt a spike in his chest. No child was afraid of Dean. Ever. He was Dean, kids just loved him at first sight. Sam never really found out how his brother did it but he did. Seeing a kid watching at Dean with fear in its eyes was just so wrong.

"So you think this is the Trickster." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not sure if it's the Trickster or just a trickster." Sam chewed his bottom lip. "But yeah, looks like." He half turned from Dean and pretended searching something in his duffel bag. The levee holding his memories back finally broke and he had trouble not bursting out in tears. He didn't even know how many times he had seen Dean die, hundreds maybe thousands of times. And then Wednesday and the months after …

Dean grabbed his jacket. "Enough with the brooding. Let's hit some bars and get a feeling for the locals. We'll not find the Trickster sitting around in this room."

"I'm not brooding." He rolled his shoulders.

"Dude, I know you." Dean said with concern in his voice. "I don't even have to see your face. I recognize your brooding shoulders when I see them."

Sam couldn't help but laugh.

"That's my boy."

South Park had three bars. They payed every one a visit. Nowhere they felt welcome.

"Dude, is it just me or don't they like strangers in this town?" Dean shoved his fists into the pockets of his jacket. "And not one hot chick. Can you believe that? Haven't seen one hot chick."

Sam rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smile. "Sure you noticed that. We are looking for a trickster and not female company in case you forgot."

The second the words were out of his mouth Sam wanted to kick himself. The delightful expression on Dean's face crumbled.

"I haven't forgot." He answered harsh. "The kid's dying. Over and over again. Hard to forget, isn't it?"

They went back to their motel in an uncomfortable silence each of them lost in his thoughts. It was late and they called it a day. While Dean was snoring soon, maybe knowing he hadn't really killed a kid helped on that, Sam laid in the dark staring at the ceiling. Damn Trickster. He hadn't told Dean in detail what happened back in Broward County and for sure not about the months after. But this case brought it all back. Every death of Dean, quick and slow, bloody and violent, some of them even comical. Every day without Dean.

At five in the morning Sam gave up. No restful sleep for him tonight and maybe the next few nights as well. For sure not before they solved this case. He sighed and rubbed his burning eyes with the heels of his hands. After a long shower he felt mostly human again. He glanced over to Dean's bed where only spiked hair was visible under the covers. He would sleep for another hour or two at least. His brother could be called many things but for sure not an early riser.

Sam snagged the keys from his brothers jacket and went out to get some coffee. It took him a while to find a diner but he took it as a chance to get a feeling for the town. Why the hell they had a Rhinoplasty and not one diner on main street?

When he found a diner it was nearly empty. While Sam waited for his coffee and breakfast he had a little chat with the waitress, Wanda, according to her name tag. Near her sixties she was not a hot chick like Dean would phrase it but she was nice and willing to talk to a stranger. Something not very common in this town as Sam had learned the other night. Beside some gossip Sam heard nothing helpful but he had to promise to come back with his brother some time. He thanked Wanda and left a good tip.

On his way back to the motel he noticed a few kids at a bus stop. Sam slowed the Impala down, searching for familiar faces.

"Hey guys." He greeted them as he recognized the kids. With some relieve he spotted Kenny's orange parka. So he was alive. For now.

"Hey." Came the weary response. Kenny stepped back his eyes on the car. Sam gave him a gentle smile. No sudden moves he reminded himself.

"What do you want?" Kyle asked.

"Like I said, me and my brother, we are here to help."

"How can you help?" The other kid asked. Sam still hadn't caught his name.

"We are pretty sure we know what's going on." Sam chose his words wisely. "There is some...body behind this. We just have to find him." Yeah, as if it was that easy. How many Tuesdays it had took him to identify the Trickster?

Now he had the interest of the kids. Under his hood Kenny mumbled something. Before Sam could asked Kyle translated for him.

"How can you find him?"

"Well ..." How should he describe a trickster? "He would be a real sweet tooth. Eating candy and chocolate all the time. Does that ring a bell?" The kids were the only ones who remember so it was worth a shot.

"You mean Cartman?"

"Stan!"

"You stuff yourself with candy all the time, fat ass." Stan shot back.

Sam eyed Cartman, no maybe not a trickster. Just a fat kid. But with a trickster everything was possible.

"No, I don't think your friend is behind this." Sam hurried to say.

"He's not our friend."

If looks could kill Kyle would be dead by now.

"Somebody else comes to mind?" Sam brought the conversation back to topic before this could escalate.

They stared at him in silence. Then Cartman spoke: "What about Chef's Chocolate Salty Balls?"

* * *

><p>Another Author's Note: I'm watching South Park for ages now but I needed Dean to realize: There are no hot chicks in South Park. If you find one please tell me and I'll pass that information to Dean.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

"The chef in the elementary school cafeteria?" Dean repeated and drowned the last of his coffee.

Sam shrug. "It's worth a shot. Besides it's our only lead." And a crappy one but he didn't say that loud. Just a guy making some chocolate thingy things. Sucked at naming them, too.

Like a basketball player Dean dunked his cup in the trashcan then he handed a wooden stake to Sam while he hid another one under his jacket. Of course Dean was prepared. Bouncing on the balls of his feet he was eager to kill that son of a bitch.

"Are you serious?" Sam took the stake but hold it at arms length as if it would bite him.

"What?"

"We are going to an elementary school for Christ's sake." He pronounced every word carefully as if he was talking to a five year old. With Dean it wasn't that far off most of the time. When he wanted to be his brother could be pretty smart but usually he played the role of the brawn and let Sam be the brains.

"And?"

"What do you wanna do? Stab the chef in the cafeteria? Let me guess during lunch time would be perfect." Sam still hold the stake as if he had no idea what to do with it.

"Dude, I'm not retarded." Dean shot back with an eye roll. "But I'm not going in there naked. And neither are you. So take the damn stake and let's go. We'll find a nice, quiet place to do the killing." He promised with a honest face but it was a thin mask, beneath it he was laughing his ass off for irritating Sam.

"Maybe we should wait till he gets home." Sam suggested to the closing door, Dean was already outside and didn't listening. "Or maybe not." Sam sighed and followed his brother to the car.

"So what do you think, health department?" Sam rummaged through the box with their fake IDs.

Dean just nodded and pulled into the lot of the school. It was still early but the chef should be in the kitchen preparing lunch.

They made their way through endless corridors. Sam listened to the muted voices he could hear from the classrooms they passed and a smile crept on his lips. With a deep breath he took in the familiar odor he had always connected with school. As a teenager this smell meant normal to him. It was his little escape from the world his family lived in. Always the new kid, always the freak. God, had he been desperate to fit in. And every time when he had found friends and gotten comfortable in school his dad had returned from a hunt and barked an order and they had been on the road the next day. To another shitty place, another school. But the smell was the same everywhere he went. Normal. Sam sighed.

A quick side glance to Dean told him his brother had noticed this particular odor too or maybe it was the sound or just the building itself, but Dean was lost in memories. But he would bet Dean remembered more janitors' closets and that place under the bleachers than actual classrooms.

"God, I had hoped to never set a foot in a school again." Dean let out a sigh.

"I don't think they will trap you and make you finish school." Sam teased and patted him on the shoulder.

"Ha, ha, very funny." Dean shot him a look. "The things you really need to know you can't learn in a frigging school. We know more about this world than they will ever know."

Sam had no response for that. His brother was right. Damn, Dean was one of the best hunters he knew and he didn't need a fancy diploma to prove it. "This way." He had spotted a sign leading them to the cafeteria.

They introduced themselves with their fake health department IDs. The chef immediately got very helpful. He was a black man, little overweight with a soulful voice. Sam liked him on the spot. Not that this little fact would stop him from stabbing this man with the stake he had under his jacket if he had to.

"This is just a routine check." Dean reassured the man while Sam swept through the kitchen and the storage rooms. When he returned Sam found his brother and the chef in a conversation which made him blush. Living with Dean 24/7 got him used to a lot. His brother could talk openly about his latest sex adventure, just for fun to see how far he could get before Sam got red ears and changed the topic. But don't you dare and ask him about his feelings, Sam thought.

This however took embarrassing to a whole new level. At some point the chef even started singing while Dean was grinning like an idiot.

"Thanks." Sam interrupted. "That should it be for now. Everything looks just fine." He grabbed his brother and made a beeline for the door.

"I like him." Dean was still grinning.

"I don't think he should talk and sing about such things." Sam answered as soon as he was sure the chef couldn't hear him anymore. "The kids around here a certainly not old enough to hear that stuff. Hell, I'm not sure if I'm old enough." He shook his head, he had still the melody in his ear. Great.

"I'm pretty sure I gave you the Talk."

"Don't remind me of that." Now Sam really shuddered. Dean had tried, he really had. And for sure it had been better than everything his father could have come around with. But still. A sixteen year old swirling with hormones just shouldn't give his little brother advice on that topic no matter how mature he was.

"And you had a girlfriend." Dean added his grin changing into a lascivious one. "Don't tell me you never got any further than making out."

"Can we stop talking about my sex life?" Sam plead, the mention of Jess stung right in his heart.

"As if you have one." Dean snorted but showed mercy and dropped it. "Found anything?"

"Nothing." He wasn't sure what he had hoped to find. When they first met the Trickster they had found nothing pointing at him. They had pinned him down with conclusion rather than with evidence. And Broward County? Sam was pretty sure the Trickster switched the syrup on purpose to give him a hint. To bring his little show to the next level, to Wednesday. And the months after that.

"You think it's him?" Sam asked burying the time without Dean deep in his mind where it belonged. Dean was alive, that was all that mattered.

"I like him." Dean repeated instead of an answer.

"You liked the Trickster when we first met him on that campus." Sam reminded him. "It was actually scary how well you two got along."

Dean just shrug his shoulders. "Like I said, he has style." He thought about it for a minute. "But I don't think the chef is our guy."

Sam opened his mouth to say something when the bell rang. Immediately the hall was full with children.

"I don't believe it."

"What?" Sam followed his brother's line of sight. First he noticed the kids – why the hell were they wearing their hats and mittens inside the building? – then he caught sight of the teacher.

"It's that hand puppet guy." Dean explained unnecessarily.

"Maybe it's an educational thing."

"Dude, this is not kindergarten."

Yeah, the children were a little to old for that kind of thing, Sam had to admit.

"And he was wearing it on the street. In the middle of the night." Dean pointed out. "I'm just saying, this town is beyond weird."

"No argument here." He spread his arms in surrender. Then he spotted a familiar figure. Sam grabbed Dean's arm and hauled him around the next corner.

"What the ..." Dean started but went silent when he saw the look on Sam's face. Sam peeked around the corner.

"Does that janitor look familiar to you?"


	7. Chapter 7

"Son of a bitch." They duck back around the corner.

"Did he see us?" Sam's heart was racing in his chest. He took a deep breath and peeked again but the man was gone. Chatter and laughter filled the air. Children were on their way to the cafeteria oblivious to the potential danger around them. Why had it to be a school? Could there be a worse place to confront the Trickster?

"Where did he go?" Dean scanned the area.

"Hey guys." The kids had noticed them. Apparently Kenny was still alive for the day, so that was something good, wasn't it? Sam rubbed his face.

"Did you see the janitor?" Dean asked Stan.

"He just went over there." He pointed down the hall but in that direction the Trickster should have run directly into the Winchester brothers.

"As if he vanished into thin air." Dean muttered after a quick search that didn't bring the man back. With the Trickster it was quite possible. These things played with reality like a kid with modeling clay.

"What's with Mr Loki?" Cartman asked.

"Yeah, is he the one …?" Kyle started but broke up with a glance around.

"His name is Loki?" If Sam had any doubt they got the right man it was gone as soon he heard the name. At their earlier encounters the Trickster had never introduced himself by name, Bobby however had confirmed the Nordic god Loki as one of the tricksters.

"Loki?" So Dean had made the connection, too.

"Pretty sure he's our guy." Sam said, eyes still searching the area. He wasn't sure what he would do if he actually found that damn bastard but he wouldn't get away. Not this time.

"Stay away from him but do nothing suspicious." Dean advised them and the kids nodded. It was kinda scary how well the kids dealt with this shit. They were eight years old for crying out loud, they should scream for their mommies and not look at him with this eyes that have seen to much. Dean had this look in his eyes since Sam could remember and he was pretty sure his own eyes reflected the same pain. These kids however should have a normal life with their biggest fear being failing a math test.

"Since when is this Mr Loki the janitor?" Dean's mind was still on the case.

The kids shrug in unison. "Had always been here."

Kenny mumbled something. Why couldn't they take off their damn winter clothing in school?

"He wants to know what you'll do next." Stan translated. How the kids understand their friend was beyond Sam.

"We'll find him and make him stop." Was Dean's sum up of their plan. The kids didn't asked if "make him stop" actually meant to kill the man and Sam was glad for small mercies. Suddenly he was way to aware of the stake under his jacket.

Sam waited at the car while Dean worked his magic on the secretary.

"And?" He asked when his brother finally made his way back to the lot. Before Dean could open his mouth Sam raised his hand. "And I don't mean the secretary."

"Dude, I'm no necrophiliac. She has to be over one hundred."

Sam just waited till his brother started to talk.

"Alright, the janitor Mr Loki. He works here, that much she could tell me. Beside that there is no information."

Sam frowned. "Did you loose your touch?"

"No." Dean shot him a look quietly telling him how stupid this question was. "Like I said there are no further information. No address, no phone number, nothing."

Now Sam's eyebrows disappeared under his bangs. "They have to pay him somehow."

"That's what I said but she had no answer to that." He paused for a moment. "Actually she seemed as if she was thinking about the janitor for the first time. I bet nobody in this school had ever bothered to question this Mr Loki."

Sam nodded slowly. "Makes sense. He doesn't need the money and he can just screw with people's minds to blend in."

"So how are we going to find this son of a bitch?" Dean asked the the 64,000-dollar-question.

The janitor wasn't in the building, an hour later they were sure of that, which left them back at square one. So they agreed to stop for the day and come back the next morning. Maybe they could catch him on his way in. If he comes to work tomorrow, Sam thought.

The next morning they got up early.

"I need coffee and a good breakfast." Dean announced when he got out of the bathroom.

"We can stop at the diner." Sam offered well aware of his brothers needs. Killing that bastard would be a lot easier with Dean running on caffeine. Besides it was way to early to head to the school.

"It's over there." Sam pointed out and Dean parked the car on the other side of the street. At this moment the diner door opened and a man stepped out.

"I don't believe it." Dean had spotted him too. They got out of the car running but when they reached the corner the Trickster had taken, they only found an empty ally.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean threw his stake on the ground.

"He's playing with us."

"You think?" Dean shot him a look.

"Let's get us some breakfast." Sam turned around. "Maybe Wanda can tell us something about him."

"Wanda?"

"The waitress." He explained. "She knows a lot about the people here."

"Is she hot?"

"Sorry." Sam opened the door. Like the last time the diner was nearly empty which was a good thing so Wanda would have time to talk.

"Sam." She remembered his name. "And this has to be your brother." She came over with a wide smile on her face. Sam half expected a motherly hug and Dean actually flinched as if he feared she would pinch his cheek.

"Sam told me how nice you were so I just had to see for myself." Dean lied smoothly with his best smile. She beamed at that and then hushed them into a booth.

"By the way, wasn't that the school's janitor we just saw leaving? Mr Loki?" Sam asked while she poured them their coffee.

"Oh, Mr Loki, yes. He loves my pancakes, comes here every morning to have them." She winked. "To be fair I think he is more into the sirup. Ed calls him our sirup junky."

"Is that so?" Dean asked while Sam just stared at her speechless. His mouth was all of a sudden much too dry. He drank some of his coffee which didn't help, burned his tongue but he felt too numb to really notice.

"Pancakes at the diner." Sam found his voice again, it sounded rusty. "Is he replaying Broward County or what?" He asked after Wanda had brought them their breakfast.

"Don't know, don't care." Was Dean's opinion on that. He dug into his meal. "We'll catch him when he leaves the diner tomorrow and then bye-bye Trickster." He grinned with his mouth full.

"You are disgusting."

Dean's grin only got wider.

The plan was easy and it went well for a change. They saw Mr Loki enter the diner the next morning and through the window they watched him eating his last stack of pancakes. Along with two pitchers of sirup. When he stepped back on the street and entered the ally they where right behind him. No escape this time.

"Hey boys, long time not s..." The Trickster began but was stopped by a stake in his chest.

"Nice to meet you, too." Sam answered through gritted teeth twisting the stake. The look of surprise on the man's face made him laugh. Sounded a little hysterical but he didn't care.

"Wow, Sammy." When he felt Dean's calm hand on his biceps Sam realized he was shaking. "Easy."

With cold eyes Sam watched the Trickster sliding to the ground. Motionless. Dead. Finally.

He took a deep breath.

"You OK?" The worry in Dean's voice was clear.

Sam nodded but his entire body was trembling, without any protest he let Dean guide him back to the car. It was over. He blinked. It was finally over.

"That was ..." Inside the car Dean searched for words. "Didn't know you had that in you. That was full metal jacket, Sammy."

"Don't say that." Sam plead hearing the Trickster's voice whispering in his head. "Just don't."

Dean shot him a look but nodded. "We should check if Kenny is alright."

Sam checked his watch. "They should be at the bus station."

He spotted the orange parka long before he could make out the other kids. Sam let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You alright, Kenny?" Sam asked through the open window. The kid nodded.

"Is it over?" Kyle asked and Sam was more than pleased to give him a positive answer. The mumbled thanks from Kenny was almost understandable.

Minutes later they had South Park in their rear mirror.

"Man, this town was just weird."

"Beyond weird. I hope that bastard is dead for real this time." Sam sighed.


	8. Epilogue

Back in the ally two man stood over the body. They watched as the corpse started to shimmer in a light blue and then disappeared into thin air.

"Maybe we should have asked him to play his part for real." Try unwrapped a candy bar and offered his friend another one. "You know he has a weak spot for the Winchesters."

Matt shook his head and took a large bite of the bar. "Attaching a picture of the face to a body had always been enough."

"He would have liked it."

"You know we have to stop killing Kenny now, don't you?" Matt said after a moment.

"It was getting boring anyway." Try swallowed the last bit of his chocolate.

They turned and walked away.

"So, Winchester episode done. What's next?" Try asked.

"Don't know." Matt chewed his bottom lip then his face lightened up. "How about Mulder and Scully?

"The Simpsons already did it."

***end***


End file.
